The Frog & The Princess

The first night watching her in Le Mouche, I had already decided to work with
her.
That night, she was singing her hit song «I Need a Man"to a room full of
shrieking gay bobbysockses.
The ambiguity of her act was that she herself looked like a man — a man,
singing «I Need a Man"to a bunch of men.
I could see how the average guy could get a little scared by her physical
advance.
It was so powerful. I thought she was… I thought she was great.
I photographed her in different positions.
I cut her legs apart, lengthened them, turned her body to face the audience.
Soon, I found myself living to the very fast rhythm of Grace Jones.
We would go out dancing, all night, every night.
I was completely neglecting my work.
An intense, hysterical romance developed between Grace and I.
But I ran out of money and realized I had to stop all this bullshit and go back
to work.
I had this idea of using Grace as the ideal veichle for my work.
She had inspired me.
On tour, we used to improvise. Thinking of an idea at breakfast and working it
out directly on stage.
I decided, deliberately, to mythologize Grace Jones.
Black, shiny, muscular people. ahh, aerodynamic in design.
'Twas to emphasise this belief that I painted Grace Jones blue/black.
I am no longer sure what I fell in love with; Grace or my idea of what Grace
should be.
But in the two years following the birth of our son, there were nothing else in
my life.
Grace let me take her over completely.
(SLAVE!)
But then I discovered that what I was making was speeding too far beyond what
was there.
By the time our 'One Man Show' reached the US, I knew I’d lost her.
Oh, the action.